


Neil Jung (Yujin)

by YouTheWrite



Category: D-BOYS, Japanese Actor RPF, Tenimyu RPF
Genre: Endo Yuya, Happoshu beer, Hirofumi Araki, Jan Kandou, M/M, Shunji Igarashi, Yu Shirota - Freeform, fujita ray - Freeform, namechecks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 15:03:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16389938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouTheWrite/pseuds/YouTheWrite
Summary: Was going nowhere, couldn't take the pain and left it there.Adachi & Kaji cool down after a stressful dress-run. Zukki can't entertain himself.





	Neil Jung (Yujin)

**Author's Note:**

> Set in March 2011, just before the _The Merchant of Venice_ run. 
> 
> Title/inspiration from Teenage Fanclub's 'Neil Jung', from the album _GRAND PRIX_.
> 
> This was meant as a quick 500 word oneshot of Zukki POV, and I have no idea what happened to turn it into this 2k mess about Adacchin that I oozed out while bored & frustrated at work and only because I needed to practise follow-through.

“Imagine I’m Zukki, if you want.”  
“I’m an actor but even my imagination isn’t that good, Chunk."

In retaliation Kaji proceeds to slobber across the lace that tickles the concealed heat-bumps on Adachi’s sternum. Kaji’s hands get careless, too, thick and wet with the drugstore gunk they use as make-up primer. His fingers stick to Adachi’s skin like slugs on strawberry leaf. 

“You - ah, fuck - think he’d get off on this? _Sannin de Doubles?_ ”  
“Oh, nice. Like I - oh, God, not so hard, hurts like a bitch when you do that - like I’d jack it to watching you deep-dick Usui in this get-up."

The chomp of sarcasm seems to startle Kaji into some new fast gear of dick-pounding, like he’s late for something somewhere else, and Adachi throws an arm out to catch on any available handhold as he is hoisted high and back into the studio wall by his friend & co-star. 

For fuck‘s sake.

The urge to backbite that often bloodies Adachi’s mood doesn’t want Kaji getting his end away while laughing at Zukki in absentia. So he decides to attempt a smackdown on the boner currently screwing in and out of him. “Unlike some people, he likes real pussy.”  
This just makes Kaji laugh. Everything fucking does. “Oh, I know. Our _fukubuchou_ crushes every merry wench in sight.”  
“You’re a pig. In spirit as well as in body.”  
“Guess that makes you the pig-bottom, then, doesn’t it?”  
Adachi’s skin smothers the snort of suprise from Kaji, pleased with his own counter-joke. Adachi has come already tonight, but has energy left to hate Kaji's wordplay humor. The thinner man has no choice but to listen to Kaji’s loud laugh winnow into scraping ripping breaths when the meat-slab of the matter slaps against him; that one of his oldest  & closest friends (practically a cousin, by now) keeps agreeing to let him raw-dog his frustration and do it decked out in what is essentially a Morning Musume outfit.

When it hits him, it really hits him. Adachi’s endorphins sizzle and flick anaethesia through his body as Kaji's dick coughs in droplets. Adachi hasn't felt this thoroughly wrung out since filming _PuriPuriD_ , when Ray Fujita made off with his cherry and wouldn't stop bragging about it like the insouciant French bastards in the novels he carried around and read between takes. Adachi & Zukki prefer _Lupin III_ manga, like the rest of their troupe.

It’s become a creature comfort now, the sex. Adachi hasn’t caught a single feeling from or for Kaji and wouldn’t care if they stopped fucking right now and never fucked again, but since they’re both here and bored and wound up it punctuates the day. They’re both shattered from the dress-run today and yet this wind-down has been one of their longest to date.

Kaji exhales like they always do as a lead-in to one of their drama exercises, a ”haaaah” crushed out into the faux-satin hanging off the prominent cut of Adachi’s shoulder-cap. Adachi prefers not to have guys come in him, it's a mess; but for Kaji a mess is always artistic. Kaji lets of Adachi's shoulders and falls back. His first act is wiping spittle drying around his mouth on a handful of the curtain they’re swathed in, like there's an etiquette to this. Next he goes for the now-covered space between Adachi’s legs. Adachi yelps and clutches his skirts together. “God, you’re such a slob. Is this our fault? Did we raise you wrong?”  
“You don’t deserve me at my best if you don’t love me at my worst.” Kaji says it in mangled English that Yanagi has taught him. The Shakespeare Snap! cards aren‘t helping any of the rest of them with language acquisition, given how they throw them at each other as much as read or understand their text.  
“Write that on the front of Usui’s script. He’ll love it so much he might finally let you put it in his mouth.”  
Kaji sucks his soft cheeks in and stares at him, akin to a pig Adachi so loves comparing him to eyeing a cat slinking in from the next field. “Don’t talk like that about him.”

Kaji’s always been like this. In a tragicomic repeat of his failure to woo Kujirai back in Tenimyu he’s been throwing every ounce of his sincere heft after the loveliness that is teenage Usui the whole run, and Usui has laughed at these advances. Kaji’s main problem is that he can’t - or perhaps just won’t - make any distinction between discretion & faithfulness, mockery & appreciation, desire & adoration; he's the perfect Bassanio, alright. Adachi supposes it’s something of his doing, that he’s set up this complex in his erstwhile _dōkyūsei_. A chill hunk of some rotting longing roils around in the bottom of his stomach, and Adachi wonders what Shirota would say if he were still working with them, patting his costars' heads while humming his tuneless improv ditties about where they are in the world or what they’re supposed to be doing; or Shunji, droning on emphysemal about shocking boyfriends of his jaundiced past; or even Yuya, after asking Adachi if he’s really alright. 

Adachi’s phone mewls half a dozen times from the clever pocket that Araki, since they’d spent a weekend together before the get-in, has stitched with deft skill inside his dress. Adachi knows who it is, so just blows air through his teeth and does nothing about the sound.

”Gonna get that? Or does it double as a vibrator?” There’s no laughter this time. Kaji is still not dressed and fluffs at his woollen hair with flushed-red hand. Adachi starts to right his costume and settles himself into the curtain around them. He doesn’t bother to respond. He doesn’t want to encourage Kaji. He wrinkles his nose at the smell of fried electrics and melting gaffer tape so typical at these venues.

Six smaller shaking cries come again from his imaginary cleavage. Kaji says, again, “hey, someone wants you." Adachi shrugs and continues pinning his underskirt back into place over his right hipbone. His phone burbles another couple of times. Adachi runs into a new thought, for him - not now, Zukki.

Kaji has a voice that bounces off every stage wall like a spun ball, but tired out post-ejaculation he is sometimes harder to hear. Adachi catches his next words uncertainly. “I’m really just here to do the filthy shit he won’t, huh?” 

Adachi unstops the breath turning to condensation in the bottom of his lungs. The main stage-lights have been switched off by a timer and he can no longer see Kaji’s expression. Kaji extends a hand to Adachi’s cheek; Adachi thinks, _Noppera-bō_ , and tosses his head to face away so Kaji can’t touch his eyes or lips. Unlike Zukki, Adachi is proud of his pale slender neck. The heating pipes kick up under the loose boards under their feet, and Adachi’s skirts shudder with them. Adachi’s phone heralds a message this time, with a sound like a cartoon character having a bright idea.

Kaji sticks his forearm into Adachi’s dress front and Adachi slaps him, stiff.

Adachi’s never hit another D-BOY in anything other than jest. During Tenimyu he'd wrestle with Zukki, thin arms against thinner. He would often kick and maul and smack his doubles partner too, as a way to communicate and set the rules of play in their eternal competition for which no prize was ever established. Every night during training camp for Cinepuri they compared bruises tracing their torsos, before settling in to watch something with explosions on Aibacchi's borrowed PSP. Most of those nights a humming pressure of pain eating up his muscles meant Adachi couldn't fall completely asleep. He still doesn’t like John Woo movies, and Zukki can extol _Hard Target_ and Jean-Claude Van Damme's spectacular arse all he wants.

For a second time that evening Adachi & Kaji look at the spaces over one another’s shoulders as they disengage their bodies. Kaji says nothing and keeps his hands to himself and down by his sides. Clearing his throat Adachi rummages through his bodice to the concealed pocket, and flips open to the phone to the screen. 

The notification shows Zukki has indeed called him four times, pinged him several times in quick succession, and finally sent him a photo taken where he is idling in Harajuku station and waiting for his latest maybe-a-girlfriend to pick him up. These days the chicks he moves in to his flat look younger & younger; girls he collides with switching cars on his trains. He gets them to bring full rucksacks over after approximately two dates and one fuck and it never goes anywhere, and each time Zukki wakes up in surprise by himself and still clad in his briefs he calls Adachi and yanks a promise out of his second-best friend to keep mum so his sainted elder brother and the other D-BOYS never get the details. Adachi thinks Zukki would be better off telling Araki about his romps instead. He also thinks Zukki’s brother, almost-forty and married with kids to raise, couldn’t give much more of a shit than the troupe. 

The picture Adachi gets from Zukki is tilted and in poor focus, but he couldn’t fail to recognise the glossed poster it shows curling around a pillar in the station underground. The poster has bird-shit splashed over it and thus besmirches the image of Adachi & Usui in stylish modern full-drag outfits, rather than the Lolita-regalia they save for the stage. Adachi cringes at that twee bob-cut _pattsun_ on girls and he doesn’t like it any better on his own head. Zukki knows this from Adachi’s continual bitching and railing against anyone wearing it, yet last they went out for okonomiyaki together the skinny dweeb still coaxed him into lying to the otherwise-hot cousin of Zukki’s New Year's girlfriend about how well she was carrying it off “to spare her feelings". Irrepressible Zukki keeps trying to fix Adachi up with the nice girls like her whom he knows in droves just like Adachi keeps trying to break Kaji down about his weight (or about anything) with every alley-cat hiss he can think of, and there’s no tactful way to stop either of them.

There’s a multi-line caption on the picture, with characteristic poor spelling. At least he didn't tweet this shit.

wktk!!!* we're comin so watch out world  
hope theyre ready for this perfect _neko**_ pair wwwww***  
Usui is a 9 tell Karaage hes a lucky sleaze  
but dw ur def still prime gf materrial we can find ur Gratiano  
im literaly trolling for potential guys here rn  
actually no these dudes are all gross come out to Gatosano**** later and we'll find u a sophisticatd man  
or manybe you shud just date yourself dachin mate

Kaji hovers close to read and as he does it thumbs at folds in Adachi’s costume, now with conspicuous creases and dark damp marks. Just to spite him Adachi switches app to check the time & weather. It’s gone eight o’clock and the janitors will lock up around them soon. There’s no time to hit the laundrette and fix his costume before rehearsal tomorrow so to teach him a lesson Wada is going to feel vindication enough to shit all over his line-reading in front of the cast. He has missed the last train running directly to his current temporary accommodation and will have to walk three blocks in the fog from the nearest station he can get to (and why has the weather turned to fog in fucking March?). There’s only congealing _men-tsuyu_ in his fridge for dinner and for breakfast, and in the morning he’s getting up before his middle-aged neighbours start their ritual quickie so he can go to work. His work for the next ten weeks is playing a second banana to Kaji Masaki, for whom only now is the fertile ground for a beard starting to moss. It’s not like Adachi had wanted the lead.

He’s just been fucked but he’s still tense trying to think of the best way to deflect and process the remote nagging attention of the guy often mistaken for his brother, the guy he butchers karaoke with and spills his Happoshu cans over - better-known to the public as that bug-eyed spaz off _Gekiranger_ everyone pretended to hate. 

He misses University for the first time since graduation, and he came back to D-BOYS. He’s 23 years old and fucking exhausted ( _hetoheto!_ , he hears in his head in a gleeful familiar cat-like wail). 

Adachi runs his lines in his head without thinking. 'Ay, if a woman live to be a man.' 

He messages Zukki back: 

fml.

“So, like, where were you keeping that? Don’t tell me there’s a bra...” Kaji hasn’t moved out of Adachi’s space even after unhooking their anatomy and getting hit in the chops, and now undeterred he spider-walks his fingers up the bodice chest of Adachi’s frock and twists his thumb in one of the criss-crossing cleavage ties as if to pull it out of the eyelets. Kaji’s biting his tongue-tip, where there’s a visible pimple. For the first time since their introduction eight years ago, Adachi notices how his friend’s bright even teeth square off like those of a grazing animal. Kaji's teeth frequently taste of doughnut sugar, and don't show unless he grins; the sharp ends of Zukki’s fangs threaten no-one but Adachi is still afraid to go too close to his mouth.

Adachi pushes Kaji in the nipple which is conspicuous as a button through his linen shirt. He runs a deliberate shiver through his cooling body, darts past the folds of flipped curtains and pads into darkness. 

“Just shut the fuck up, fatso. And don’t miss your train home.” He doesn’t hang back to make sure Kaji hears him muttering as he goes.

**Author's Note:**

> * - from Quora (https://www.quora.com/What-are-some-Japanese-internet-slang-words).
> 
> wktk: from わくてか (wakuteka), abbreviation of わくわくてかてか(wakuwaku tekateka) - わくわく for being excited, てかてか for shiny. The term means you are happily waiting for something pleasant to happen, with your mind excited and skin sweaty in anticipation.
> 
> ** - from the LGBT Wiki (https://lgbt.wikia.com/wiki/Japanese_gay_slang).
> 
> Neko (ネコ): Literally "cat" (and sometimes written with the kanji for cat, though more often in katakana, as above), this word refers to the passive/receptive sexual partner, especially in anal sex. In lesbian relationships, the woman who expresses or displays more traditionally feminine traits is the neko; see "femme" in English usage. The etymology is unclear. In current use. 
> 
> *** - from Quora (https://www.quora.com/What-are-some-Japanese-internet-slang-words).
> 
> wwwwww: Japanese counterpart of lolololololololol. From （笑）, which is read “warai”(laugh), leaving only the initial letter w. Typing a lot of ws is called 草を生やす (to grow grass), since a sequence of ws looks like grass on ground.
> 
> **** - http://www.gatosano.com/
> 
> Gatosano: a hipster bar in Harajuku, serving herbal/'medicinal' shochu-spirits while indie DJs entertain patrons. It sounds pretentious and not at all D-BOYS speed, but I'm sure even the Golden Pair want to act their age on rare occasion (and in-story Zukki could easily get there from Harajuku just by staying on the Yamanote Line).


End file.
